


Of Blood and Angels

by bluest_skies



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Angel Castiel, Bloodplay, Demon Dean, Enochian, Knifeplay, M/M, Oral Sex, Rimming, Sex Magic, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-02
Updated: 2013-11-02
Packaged: 2017-12-31 05:55:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1028059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluest_skies/pseuds/bluest_skies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean has been turned into a demon and the only way to make him human again is for an angel to literally fuck the evil the out of him. (This was a prompt at the spn_kinkmeme at Livejournal)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Blood and Angels

**Author's Note:**

> PROMPT -Demon!Dean, Rough Sex, Biting, Blood!play, Knife!play, Anal Sex; Dean has been turned into a demon and the only way to make him human again is for an angel to literally fuck the evil the out of him.
> 
> Decided to give it a shot. Unbeta'd (as usual)

Castiel heard Dean's prayer and his heart soared, almost giddy with relief that Dean was okay. It wasn't too late. Castiel hadn't screwed everything up. He zeroed in on Dean's location, winging his way there as fast as possible, a hotel room in the middle of nowhere. Dean stood at the window, shirtless, a knife held casually in one hand. He said nothing.

“Dean?” Castiel murmured. “Are you alright? I've been worried.”

Dean turned to face him. Castiel stared at the ruined tattoo on Dean's collarbone, despair blooming in his heart. Several raised welts of burned, blistered skin slashed across and around the anti-possession tattoo that Dean had worn for years. Castiel recognized the ritualistic marks – sex magick. Hope flickered. Dean was not possessed, but transformed. He could bring Dean back to himself, reverse the spell, make him human again.

“Dean,” he pleaded. “Let me help you. I can fix this.”

“Who says I _want_ your help, angel-boy? Hmm?” Dean sneered, his black eyes flashing in contempt. “Maybe I don't need to be _fixed_. Maybe I'm finally, _finally_ who I'm supposed to be. What I was trained in Hell for. _Made_ for.”

Castiel shook his head, taking tentative steps towards him. “No, Dean. I raised you from the Pit. I _know_ you --”

“ _You know shit_!”, Dean yelled, rushing towards Castiel, shoving him against the wall. Castiel didn't even see where the knife had come from, only that it was now pressed tightly against his throat. He swallowed carefully. Dean leaned in close, his breathing harsh, fanning across Castiel's face. “You know _nothing_ ,” he hissed.

There was a sharp, stinging pain as he felt Dean drag the tip of the knife down the side of his neck. Dean grabbed Castiel by the hair, wrenching his head back, and licked a long, wet line along the wound. Castiel heard Dean growl before he felt immense pressure. Dean latched his mouth onto Castiel's neck, sucking, muffled mewling noises escaping him.

Castiel felt his cock start to harden and closed his eyes, warmth spread though his body. He'd wanted Dean for so long. He just didn't imagine it would be like this. “Dean, please...” he whispered.

Dean pulled back with a wet pop. “Please _what_? Hmm? Tell me, Cas, what are you begging for? Me to stop?” He thrust a hand between Castiel's legs, a smirk on Dean's lips as he felt his erection. “Oh ho...” he chuckled, stroking Castiel's cock through his trousers. “ _M_ _aybe_ you're begging me to fuck you, hmm?” Dean pressed his lips against Castiel's ear and whispered. “Tell me, Cas...would you like to have your ass thoroughly fucked?” He pressed his teeth down on the lobe lightly.

Castiel felt his knees weaken and his cock pulsed in Dean's hand. “Yes,” he breathed.

“Well,” Dean said as he pulled Castiel away from the wall, walking him over to the bed. “As it turns out, I'm happy to oblige,” he growled and pushed him down onto the bed.

Castiel hit the bed with an oomph. “Dean,” he said, struggling to sit up.

“ _Shut_ up,” Dean hissed, climbing onto the bed, to straddle Castiel's legs. He slipped the knife under Castiel's tie, slicing it from around his neck. Dean used the knife to pop a few of the buttons from Castiel's shirt before grabbing each side and wrenching it apart. The remaining buttons popped free, creating a dull thump as they scattered across the carpet. Dean scraped the knife lightly across Castiel's chest, then added pressure, biting his lip as speckles of blood welled forth and Castiel cried out.

He leaned down, moaning as he licked the blood away, Castiel moaning with him as he felt Dean's erection push against his own.

“Mmm,” Dean hummed. “If I had known you tasted this fucking good, I wouldn't have waited so long.”

He sliced shallow cuts along Castiel's chest and abdomen, obscene slurping noises echoing throughout the room until Castiel's torso was slick with blood and Dean's spit. Castiel's breath came in quick gasps, his hips arching up, rutting against Dean's crotch. He needed to stay focused to undo this ritual, but his head was swimming with the feel of Dean's body pressed against him. Dean sat up, blood smeared across his face and hands. He sucked the blood from his bottom lip.

“Fuck, Cas,” Dean panted, fumbling with Castiel's belt. He tugged it through the belt loops, throwing it across the room and jerked at the button on Castiel's pants, popping it open, ripping at the zipper. Dean slid off the bed, dragging Castiel's pants down as he went, stopping to quickly pull off his shoes, then removing them completely. Dean hummed appreciatively as Castiel's cock strained upward, precome leaking from the tip. Dean shed his clothes quickly, then climbed back on the bed, hovering over Castiel's almost naked body. He debated on having the angel remove his trench coat and ruined shirt, but decided to he was too anxious to defile Castiel's body to bother.

“The things I want to do to you, Cas,” he muttered and took Castiel's cock into his mouth.

Castiel arched up off the bed, embarrassed by the sounds coming out of his mouth, but too lost in sensation to care. Everything had narrowed to the feel of Dean's mouth engulfing him, warm and wet, sucking him deep, his lips sliding up the shaft, his tongue teasing the slit, licking away the moisture there, Dean's hands rough and calloused from years of hunting, grasping at his hips. Castiel strained his arms forward, running his fingers through Dean's hair, who pulled away with a snarl.

“Don't fucking touch me,” Dean growled and pinned Castiel's hands to the bed before roughly taking his dick back into his mouth, sucking harder, his head bobbing faster. Castiel panted, a warmth stirring low in his belly, his balls feeling tight, almost painful.

“Dean, please,” he whimpered. “I'm going to come...”

Dean pulled away, shaking his head. “The hell you are. Not until _I_ say.” He gazed down at Castiel, taking in the sight before him. The angel's hair messy, his mouth parted, panting heavily, his eyes lust-filled, pupils blown, his dick still covered in Dean's saliva, twitching, _begging_ for attention.

  
Dean grinned salaciously. “What a dirty little angel you are, Cas.” He moved down Castiel's body, licking and nibbling at his balls, chuckling as the angel clutched at the bed sheets, squirming. Dean spread Castiel's legs further apart and pushed them back slightly as he slid his tongue across Castiel's ball, along his perineum, and further down, licking at the entrance of his ass.

“Oh _god_ ,” Castiel whimpered, his hips jerking upward as Dean licked at his tight hole, probing with his tongue.

“God can't help you,” Dean murmured, licking, kissing, pressing his tongue into Castiel relentlessly. Castiel writhed under Dean's ministrations, begging him to never stop, begging him to let him come, saying he'd do anything...anything.

“You'll do _everything_ ,” Dean replied as he leaned over towards the nightstand where his duffle bag lay. Reaching into the side pocket, he pulled out a small bottle of lube, pouring some into his hand. Fingers slick, he slid one into Castiel's ass, pushing in slowly.

Castiel groaned loudly. “Dean...”

Dean worked his finger in and out, leaning in to lick at the head of Castiel's cock. He suckled at it lightly as he fingerfucked Castiel's ass with first one finger, then adding another, stretching the hole further. Castiel rutted his cock into Dean's mouth shamelessly, not caring how depraved he must look, his dick hard and straining, his ass stuffed with Dean's fingers.

“Dean...” he panted, as a third finger was added. “God, _Dean_ , please...fuck me....fuck me... _please_.”

Dean slipped his fingers out and poured lube over his own cock, taking it in his fist and pumping slowly, positioning himself at Castiel's entrance. Dean groaned as he slowly pushed his dick into Castiel's ass, feeling the resistance at first until the head slid past the tight ring of muscle. Dean continued pushing until he was buried deep.

“Jesus _fuck_ , Cas,” Dean breathed, slowly pulling back before pushing back in again. “Fuck, you feel amazing... god...”

Dean increased his speed, his hips snapping against Castiel's ass, the slap of skin echoing through the room. Castiel was chanting in Enochian, his head shaking back and forth, one of his shaking hands moving forward to wrap around his own cock, jerking it almost erratically. And Dean let him, the feel of Castiel's ass clenching tight around his cock and the sight of Castiel's hand pumping up and down, pushing him closer to the edge.

“Fuck, I'm gonna come, Cas....oh god...” Dean moaned, throwing his head back as his cock pulsed.

The moment Castiel felt Dean coming, he thrust his hand to the ruined and scarred tattoo on Dean's collarbone, pouring his Grace into it, still chanting in Enochian. Bright blue light filled the room, swirling around and into Dean's body and he screamed, falling away from Castiel and onto the floor.

\\\\\\\////\\\\\\\////

Dean was so warm. He never wanted to leave this warmth, ever. He listened to the whoosh of the ceiling fan overhead, the muffled voices outside and slowly started to remember - he was in a hotel room. Cracking an eye open, he saw Castiel sitting in a chair by the side of the bed.

"Cas?"

“Dean...” Castiel said, kneeling onto the floor. The relief he felt at seeing Dean's green eyes was palpable. He brushed his fingers through Dean's hair. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I was hit by a truck,” he muttered sleepily. “What happened?”

“You don't remember?” Castiel asked.

Dean eyed him warily. "Bit and pieces." 

"A ritualistic spell, linked with your tattoo. But I fixed it. You should be find now. Protected," Cas said.

"Friggin' witches..." Dean murmured in digust.

"Yes," Castiel agreed. "They are quite bothersome.

Dean sat up and scrubbed a hand over his face. He patted the mattress. "Sit down, Cas. We need to talk about last night."


End file.
